


Matters of the heart

by annaspiringwriter



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 21:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17988434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaspiringwriter/pseuds/annaspiringwriter
Summary: He expected to be dead by now. Somewhere on the edge, where nothing exists anymore except for what is true, he hears Zabuza`s broken voice whisper to him





	Matters of the heart

It`s snowing. It`s been snowing for a while in his heart, tentative fingers brushing the strings of his heart, making him painfully aware of its presence, even though he keeps reciting like a mantra that a shinobi must put aside the tightness inside his ribcage.

While he`s fighting Naruto and the dark-haired boy inside his beautifully crafted fortress ( _cage, for them and for him_ ), he realizes their dreams burn too bright. They won`t quit either, because they have something of their own to fight for, even to the death. His heart constricts in his chest and he tells himself that he doesn`t want to harm them, but he knows he must.

He`s perfected himself as a deadly weapon, a weapon proud to be wielded by its master and he can`t afford to lose, not when losing could signify their destruction.

Haku breaths in the already bitter air of remorse. Something in him snaps and he starts attacking them viciously, more determined than ever to see this through. _Only for him. Because what would Haku be without him? Probably nothing. Just another pitiful victim of revenge against blood. Thanks to Zabuza and that ethereal day in the snow, he has a purpose. To serve, to fight, **to be.** _

* * *

 

 

 

He`s longed for this for so long. Even now, while being _finally_ held, Haku still embraces his longing, like he would an old friend who`s slowly vanishing. But never truly, never permanently.

He`s being pushed against the wall of the modest, dirty-ish room they are using for solace for the time being. He`s vaguely aware that he pushes back, desperation clawing at him along with incredulity at _this_ finally happening. It`s everything, everything he could have possibly hoped for, transcendence and completeness even before something remotely scandalous happens. They just wrap limbs against each other, inhaling and exhaling mingled breaths in the enclosed space between their faces.

Haku briefly wonders how something can feel so peaceful and serene, just like a quiet, resplendent dawn over the snow a long time ago and yet...be so consuming, urgent, sending shivers deep inside his bones. Like being caught off guard in a winter snow and getting lost forever.

“Haku.” What a beautiful way to break the silence, with Haku`s name on his lips. He still worries vaguely that the spell will be broken, yet he dares not interrupt his master. “You`re trembling.”

_Oh._ He was too caught up to notice such a fickle detail. How could he not tremble, when this is all he`s ever wanted?

Zabuza starts to pull away, withdrawing to better study him.

“Are you afraid?”

“Yes.”

“Do you even want this?”

“I do. By that day when I was reborn in the snow, by the loyalty I bear you, there`s nothing I want more.”

Zabuza growls in response, something feral and primitive, something as old as the Gods but as unknown and magical to him as the way of the shinobi and Haku feels his heart thank whoever has brought him all the way here, in this moment. _Finally._

Haku lives for the rare, exquisite flash of pride that sometimes graces his master`s eyes at the recognition of Haku`s growing abilities as his perfect, devoted weapon. He strives to make him proud, even now, so he musters every ounce of courage running through his icy veins and elegantly stands on his tiptoes, deftly unwraping the bandages that cover Zabuza`s face ( _he feels liek he`s discovering a gift meant just for him)_ and raising his lips in a tentative, shy kiss After all, he`s a quick, dilligent learner. Through it all, he can feel his master`smile while their lips are melting into each other. Soon it becomes a dance of tongues and touches.

Haku wonders how simple touches can simultaneously immerse him in the coldest waters of a baptism and scorch his pale, beautiful skin to ink-stained bones. He`s aware that they`ve moved far from the wall, but he doesn`t care how, as long as they move together. His spinning head welcomes the stability of the floor. The weight he `s been carrying for years of suffering is being lifted, replaced with another, more palpable weight over him. Definitely more palpable. His hands roam everywhere, everywhere at once. It`s everything and not enough at the same time.

 

Fingers are brushing against his cheek. “Why?” He begins to question the unusual display of gentleness, until he`s stunned into silence by Zabuza`s lips kissing away the tears on his face. He`s crying and a wave of shame washes over him, because Haku may be inexperienced, but he cannot imagine his reaction as being particularly appealing at a time like this. He needs to ammend for his weakness.

“I`m, I`m sorry. I don`t know what`s gotten into me.” For someone whose blood revolves around water, he is having a hard time keeping his tears at bay, as if a dam broke somewhere deep inside his soul.

“My beautiful, sad boy.” Zabuza whispers close to his neck, his pounding pulse, in the dark cover of his spilled hair. Haku`s never been called beautiful before and his master never openly acknowledged his sadness. But it feels like a time for firsts. It feels right to cry in Zabuza`s arms, even when he knows better than anyone how cruel and unflichingly deadly they can be.

“Here, I am home” he manages through the tightness in his chest, the shortness of his stolen breaths, the overwhelming trembling of his voice.

So Haku embraces it like it`s a chance of rebirth he`s given. He takes the pleasure, the pain and everything in between as a solace to his delicate, wounded soul. He comes like a shattering mirror and finds himself pieced together in the aftermath.

 

* * *

 

 

_So this the feeling of death._

The far-away sound of the fight still reaches his ears, like he`s sinking deep into an ocean, succumbing to the pressure above him. Here, everything is calm.

His death is not a flash of lighting catching him unaware. His heart slows down, counting with its beats the seconds he has left and the ones that mattered most in his life. Blood pulses, still eager to flow, to transcend Haku`s own mortality.

His master is behind him, alive, stunned into stillness and Haku knows this is his greatest achievement. He served his purpose to the bitter end, he was efficient, he was useful.

He was worthy.

Haku is not greedy. If he was, he would be upset by the loss, by his inability to ever again indulge in his short-lived happiness. No, he is supremely content with dying for the man brought to him by snow. He can think of no greater honor than what they molded between them.  

 

* * *

 

He expected to be dead by now. _Perhaps I am and I have no way of knowing._ Somewhere on the edge, where nothing exists anymore except for what is true, he hears Zabuza`s broken voice whisper to him. A hand brushes his face and the burden of unshed tears spills from his eyes, even now when it`s so late. It`s snowing.

**Author's Note:**

> Their deaths broke my heart.


End file.
